The Everholt Boar Hunt
by Eialyne
Summary: King Folca of Rohan has just slain the last of the Orcs in the Ered Nimrais, and now leaves to hunt the Boar of Everholt within the Firion Woods. This is the story of the fatal outcome of that hunt. Note: Extreamly Short


With a sudden thrust, I put the moaning orc out of its misery. As I wiped my spear blade of the dark blood, I looked around. Strewn about were orc corpses and the rest of the Calvary. Closer to the fortress stood my liege, Folca. We all gathered behind him, awaiting further orders. With a grim laugh he said, "So my vow is fulfilled." He turned to us, "Burn the cursed place!" We hastened to fulfill the command.  
  
My name is Hathwine; I'm the Second Marshal of the Mark. Our king, Folca, had made a vow on the day of his coronation that he wouldn't hunt any wild animal until every last orc that roamed Rohan was dead. I was only a green trainee at the time.  
  
It was now 13 years later, and the last orc stronghold had been destroyed and burned to the ground. We were now heading back to the Golden Hall at Edoras. I maneuvered my horse, Fyrecyn, up to walk side by side with the King's.  
"Sir," I said, half jokingly, "Now that all your quarry is dead, I assume you will have to find new prey."  
Folca continued to gaze toward the horizon as he replied, "I would prefer to lie down and rest, but the call to hunt seems to run in my body." He sighed, "I fear my passion will be the death of me."  
For some reason, that last statement sent chills up my spine.  
  
Sure enough, within three days of our arrival back home, Folca decided to go hunting with a select few of his men. I was one of those chosen.  
"But you have just arrived home!" My wife cried as I counted arrows. "Can't our king put his hunting to the side for once?"  
I shook my head, "He lives for the hung. Even his wife couldn't make him see otherwise when he heard of the Everholt boar."  
As soon as I stood up to go pack my saddlebags, she embraced me tightly. "Just come back home safely to me."  
  
The tracker came running to stand before Folca. He stood panting as he delivered his message. "Milord, the boar is just a little ways ahead."  
The king nodded. "Take two others and circle behind it, the rest of us will chase it toward you and we'll catch it in between."  
A few of us shot uneasy looks at each other. The safest, and sometimes more effective, way to hunt boar was from a distance or trapping it. Backing it into a corner or surrounding it was much more dangerous. One aethelwigend opened his mouth as if to object, but seemed to think better of it. Without another word, we set out. I was with the other two who remained with the King.  
After a few minuets of trotting through the woods, we heard a crashing in the underbrush. "Sounds like the boar," Folca grinned and I noticed a gleam in his eye. I shifted my spear out of the stirrup brace and aimed it toward the sound the noises were coming from.  
And not a moment to soon, Fyrecyn balked at the sight of the creature. I started as well. The creature was HUGE! Almost the size of a small pony, its red eyes were frantically looking around over foot long, curved, razor sharp tusks. Its path took it straight past me, and my spear grazed a long gash down its back before I could lift it to throw.  
Enraged, the boar turned, and headed back towards us. Hearing the jingling of stirrups, I turned and saw that Folca had dismounted. "Milord!" I panicked, "What are you doing off your horse?"  
He grinned and braced his spear against the oncoming creature. "Its more of a challenge this way. More glory!" I couldn't help noticing a maniac gleam in his eyes.  
One of the other men had tried to stab his dirk into the boars skull as it passed, but it just bounced off. It snorted, and continued charging. I realized that the Kings simple leather armor wouldn't stand up to an impact with those tusks, so taking a risk, I leaped of Fyrecyn's back and towards the boar, aiming for the back of its neck. The tip stuck, but it wasn't a killing blow. Unfortunately, the boar kept going even with me on its back. "Hathwine you idiot!" I heard someone yell. The spear shaft suddenly broke off at the base of the tip and I fell.  
I rolled to a stop, gripping my side; it felt like I might have broken a rib or two. Looking up, I saw Folca sidestep the boar, and gorging it in the side at the same time. The aethelwigend who had almost spoken against the King earlier shot an arrow at the angry creature. It stuck in its shoulder, but still the boar charged. Suddenly the other three men who had left to chase the boar easier cantered into the clearing, blocking off its escape.  
It turned back around and Folca yet again placed himself in its path. This time though, he managed to drive the spear into the boar's chest, and its momentum pushed it along the weapon until the point was sticking out its back. It was dead instantly. Ignoring the pain in my side, I stood up to help pull the dead creature off my King.  
Only once I reached him, I saw the damage the boar had inflicted. It had carried itself all the way down the shaft of the spear, that one of its sharp tusks had lodged itself into his upper arm, the other had pierced his armor and into his chest. Enlisting the help of two other men, we pulled the boar off. The Kings breath was shallow, and we all knew it would be only a few minuets before he was gone. I heard someone sobbing.  
"Milord."  
He looked up at me and managed a weak laugh. "I told you hunting would be the death of me." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Tell my son Folcwine.he mustn't let something control his life.like hunting did mine." He let out one last breath.and was still. 


End file.
